The Bate's Motel Does Exist - 1st Half

Here's the scoop, friends...like a bunch of my pieces now posted - and coming soon - this is, as indicated, the 1st HALF of this fairly lengthy poem. The 2nd half had to be posted separately due to Poetry Soup's file-size limitations. No other way I could manage to make it happen...sorry about that - Thanks for reading, or listening, or both...whatever the case may be - Cheers, Mark Three of us...me, and sisters, Dawn Marie and Crystal, were headin’ down to Mardi Gras to snarf some cajun food, When...pullin’ off to - fill the tank - empty Crystal’s bladder - and fill a couple thermoses with coffee - freshly brewed - We began to notice how the thinner trees were leaning. The air began to quickly fill with leaves and small debris, And slightly south of Baton Rouge we started gettin’ nervous - aware of just how devastating coastal storms can be. The sky was fairly dark, but there was sunshine showing through in spots as big as football fields, so we continued on, But twenty minutes down the road the wind got really gusty...and as we scanned the skies ahead, all sunny spots were gone. Dawn Marie was trembling as she quivered, “This is crazy. Let’s pull off the road someplace and wait this sucker out.” I was surfing frantically for local-weather news - hoping to discover what these winds were all about - When Crystal spotted four big trees, not far up the road, that anyone with brains could tell were perfect for our plight. Pulling off…..at 6 p.m…...the sky had grown so black - it seemed like we were driving in the middle of the night! As blinding, random lightening bolts were strobing through the sky, an old roadside motel could just be seen not far ahead. Then Crystal added, “I’m with Dawn...and older, small motels are usually cheap and fairly clean, and all we need’s a bed. “Come on, Chester,” she persisted, “if the storm continues...and - comin’ from the south - ya’ gotta bet it prob’ly will… We’d be better off, I think, to stop and get a room. The arguments for drivin’ in a storm this bad are nil.” Noticing the road - on either side - was nearly bare...a testament to locals...who respected how things were... And glancing back, seeing the worried look on Crystal’s face, deciphering in a heartbeat that - if it were up to her - We’d be giving in to what we knew was somewhat risky, waiting out the turbulence -preferring ‘safe and warm’ To what, if things got nasty, would have likely ruined our trip...I...and not reluctantly... surrendered to the storm. “Vacancy” was lighted on the sign out near the road, and, just below - “Week and Monthly rates upon request”. But...dangling from its bottom was a thought provoking offer whose meaning those who’re - ‘cleaner cut’ - will often fail to get. “Rooms for 30 minutes now just $14.95. More than 4 - a buck per person, no IDs required.” Exchanging glances - rife with looks expressing our disgust - had the storm been weaker - and we not so damn tired - We’d ‘ve kept on going ‘till we’d found a nicer place. An option less conspicuous as - a dive that rents its rooms To sleazy, horny scumbags! A place where, when you entered, your nose was not assaulted by the former users’ fumes. A single room - with double beds - was all we’d really need, and that’s what older sister, Crystal, asked for off the bat. “We don’t got no double beds...but I see why you asked,” he smirked, then quipped sarcastically...“it ain’t my fault you’re fat!” Glancing through the picture window, intermittent strikes were lighting up the evening sky as bright as day - non-stop - When - Mr. Jackass - filled us in, “You prob’ly know it’s raining...but every room is furnished with - a plunger - and a mop, “So...just in case the stool backs up - or rain comes through the window - everything you’ll need to keep your mattress nice and dry Is right there in the closet, but - just to play it safe - try to keep your shoes and luggage someplace nice and high!” The 3 of us exchanged our looks of total disbelief, then turned to face the desk clerk with a vengeance in our eyes. In similar situations - with odds of three to one - the trios typically win the wars…the loser usually dies! “We’re not staying here tonight,” Dawn Marie exploded, “this, without a doubt’s, the worst motel I’ve ever seen! Even if the rooms were free they wouldn’t be cheap enough...and based on how this office looks...there ain’t no way they’re clean!” “Let’s head down the rode a ways,” Crystal recommended. “I’m convinced this brothel’d give us rashes...lice...an’ bugs! And I believe this ****-for-brains, sarcastic little weasel is prob’ly makin’ ***** films, and definitely doin’ drugs!” Now...referencing the fact that we, in fact, are overweight to justify his rude remark concerning our request For double beds was bad enough, but...when he winked at Crystal...she, of course, became incensed and grabbed him by the chest, Pulled his wimpy *** from out behind what stood between them...grabbed him by the throat an’ crotch...pinned him to the wall... Then choked him, ‘til his face went blue, and - just before he croaked - kicked him in the you-know-whats...then watched that sucker fall! Now, don't miss the ending, friends...it's pretty wild piece.